Amidst a pitter-patter of rain, Aiden groggily opened his eyes, his body curled under the covers on the bed. His fingers twitched inside the blanket as a sliver of the curtain allowed raindrops to enter his field of vision, with faint neon lights flickering in the distance through the downpour.

Wrapped in his blanket, Aiden crawled to the windowsill, peering through the blurry glass at the desolation outside. Was this truly New York City?

Even after three months in this apartment, Aiden was reluctant to accept this reality. His notion of New York was one of bustle and grandeur, with towering skyscrapers, neon-lit streets, upscale malls, and the enchanting Times Square.

Compared to the images from newspapers and TV, this place was a living hell—dark, damp, filthy, and chaotic. The area's crime was notorious, with Manhattan's gangs infamous in any world. Besides the gangsters, the neighborhood was rife with thieves and robbers.

Aiden prayed each time for his parents' safe return, an anxiety-inducing routine. He had expressed his desire to move away more than once, which only seemed to depress his parents further. They kept promising a better life, adding to Aiden's sorrow. He didn't want to be an ungrateful child; he understood their hard work, but life was never easy.

"When will I grow up? How much longer must we live this way?" Aiden murmured. At five, despite his extraordinary abilities, he remained an innocent child in his parents' eyes.

Crack!

"Ah!"

A dull thud, even through the rain, caught Aiden's attention. Looking down, he saw a black SUV speeding away, its wheels splashing water in all directions before disappearing into the rain.

Two figures lay motionless on the ground, in odd postures, drenched by the rain. Slowly, streams of vibrant red blood mixed with the rainwater, cleansing the filthy street.

Aiden's pupils dilated as he flung open the window and leaped out.

The two-story fall wasn't too high, and Aiden's ragged abilities allowed for a safe landing, though his blanket was now soaked and muddied.

The warm bodies on the ground were lifeless, their eyes wide with the shock of their final moments, dark hair floating in the puddles, their warmth fading into the cold.

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"You must be joking," Aiden's small hand wiped his face, the cold rain sobering him further. At his feet lay the body of his mother, who had tenderly caressed his cheek just hours ago.

Aiden gasped for air, having forgotten to breathe amidst the shock. He knelt, his mind blank.

"Child," a faint voice by his ear startled Aiden awake. He crawled to his father's side. "You used it again... Remember, hide and protect yourself..."

Before Aiden could respond, a large hand covered his head, rubbing vigorously as if using the last of the man's strength. The man's dark eyes slowly lost their luster, and his rough hand fell from Aiden's head, splashing into the cold rainwater.

There, Aiden sat numbly, the desolate rainy street empty around him. The rain grew heavier, thunder and lightning filling the sky, as a figure rushed into the downpour, lifting Aiden's body.

Time seemed to blur, and when Aiden came to, police sirens pierced the night, the flashing red and blue lights illuminating the dark alleys. In the worn apartment building, few remaining residents peered down, their faces a mix of shock and something else. People within the building exchanged glances, sensing a crisis.

Wrapped in a police coat, Aiden smelled an odd, elderly scent. His cheek felt the scratchy texture of a sweater, letting him know he was in Grandma Amy's embrace.

Aiden looked up at Amy's withered face, her hands dry and gnarled, fingertips knobby and rough as she stroked his hair.

"It's okay, child, it's really okay," the 70-year-old Amy consoled Aiden, her expression sorrowful yet trying to be strong, touching the heart of an observing officer.

The torrential rain couldn't wash away the sins of Hell's Kitchen but erased the traces of the accident. Aiden watched as his parents were covered with white sheets and wheeled away.

Afterward, Aiden's memory became a blur.

He only knew that on that rainy night, he lost much more than his parents.

Three days later, Aiden was sent to an orphanage, thanks to media coverage that drew public attention.

This was the second accidental death in the apartment building within a week.

Aiden knew about the first incident—a young couple from 303B, ambushed and killed by robbers on their way home.

One family robbed to death, another killed in a traffic accident. Seemingly unrelated events were linked by the media's speculative eye. The root of it all seemed to lie with the dilapidated apartment building.

And Aiden learned from the news that the building had long been bought by a wealthy businessman.

Two months earlier, the businessman had acquired the land to demolish the building and develop the property. Most residents had moved out, receiving undisclosed compensation.

Aiden's family and Amy had been among the last holdouts. Amy, having lived there for over 30 years, refused to leave. Why Aiden's parents didn't move was unclear to him.

Unreasonable compensation seemed to be the reason Aiden's family stayed, according to the news. Those who left had likely accepted token amounts under various threats.

The fate of those who stayed was now evident.

The accidents among the building's stubborn residents fueled speculation about the untold stories behind them. Aiden, caught in the eye of the media storm, was a prime candidate for orphanages looking to boost their image and donations.

Otherwise, in the racially charged '90s, few would care about an orphaned Asian child.